Glossary:Boysas—the “boys,” a term originating from the notorioius D-bah Boardriders Club.Coolie—Coolangatta, Gold Coast, Australia. Example: “Tell that Coolie cunt to stop pissing on my fresh laundry.”
Cunt—A versatile Australian pronoun used to describe any object, animate or otherwise, but especially persons, male or female. Example: “Oi cunt, tell that cunt of a fucking cunt to get fucked. Cunt!”

A combination of competitive biography and guide to athletic and psychological domination, Jimmy Slade’s latest literary feat, “I Won You,” offers the knowledge and intuition that can only be earned on the road to greatness.

Sample Chapters

1. Never relent, regardless of age.
—At the age of 37, Slade still found himself in the finals of the Pipe Masters, an event he’s won 7 times! Do you think he backs down to next-generation super talents like Carissa Morre? Heck No! Neither should you.

2. Never look away.
—Known for his green-eyed “thousand yard gaze,” Slade illustrates how to dominate opponents before they ever hit the water with one unblinking stare down.

3. Never pay.
—As Slade knows well, the first one to pay, is the first loser. Is there a bill coming your way? Duck. Do you owe money on a bet? Skip their calls. On a date? Stick her with the check.

4. Better look out, someone just might win You!
—Even though you’re accustomed to being on top, you want to win at everything, including love. And when you’re playing from your weak points, that’s when somebody is going to try to win You!

5. If somebody does win You, you better win them back.
—Let’s face it, people are human. Not everybody can win fair and square all of the time. This is when you go super-human and use telekinesis, telepathy and regular lies.

6. Once you succeed . . . re-succeed.
—Even though you won once, that’s not enough. Win again. 9 Times.

Sprunt
Spray for your hoo ha$19.99
Ladies, does your old wetsuit ever leave you with that “not so fresh feeling?” Fret no longer. Now there’s SPRUNT spray for your hoo ha.

Slater Chia Pet$19.99
Is there someone on your Christmas list who’s old enough to remember the Momentum Generation? Does the surfer in your life pine for the old days? Help that old school ripper turn back the clock with the Kelly Slater Chia Pet. By applying the patented Chia Pet seeds, you can turn back the clock while watching the nine-time world champ’s scalp go from championship stubble to Jimmy Slade waves.

SUP–86
AKA, The SUP Torpedo$19.99
Your worries are over. Do us all a favor and arm your shred stick with this nifty new gadget and eliminate the SUP clutter in our lineups . Brought to you by the engineers at Haliburton

Alaia Fins
by Morey Boogie$19.99
Do you miss the top turn? The cut back? Do you want to perform as well as you used to?

Experts like Rasta and the Malloy brothers agree there’s nothing faster in hot point break action than the ancient Alaia board. And now that you have one too, you can make it surf like a real board with Morey Boogie’s removable Alaia fins.

At 12:18 p.m. today, three years after the sudden and unexpected closure of Clark Foam, Grandpa Gordon “Grubby” Clark announced that he has literally “shut down” the ocean. The statement arrived via fax machines at entities as disparate as NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration), SIMA (Surf Industry Manufacturer’s Association), Gov. Schwarzenegger’s office and the White House.

The fax claimed that “any swell now in the world’s oceans merely represents resonant storm activity, and the ocean will go completely flat in 7 to 10 days time.” Much like the cryptic fax of 2005, which caused upheaval throughout the surf world, the statement contained no explanation for the seemingly chaotic, and mean-spirited decision.

While pundits argue how such a feat could possibly be attained, those close to Clark’s former operation insist that his claims must be given credence. News of the ocean closure rippled through Congress as well as the nation’s scientific community today, yet first to take decisive action was Billabong USA’s C.E.O. Paul Naude. The South African surf industry magnate sent big-wave riders Mike “Snips” Parsons and partner Brad Gerlach into the deep sea, abreast their jet skis, with a mandate to quickly discover the source of the cloggage. Gerlach reportedly surrendered a spot at a casting call for “Gossip Girl,” to take up the challenge. Parson’s wouldn’t cease preparation for even a moment to comment on the unprecedented adventure.

Meanwhile, Surfline.com’s Sean Collins is said to have attained a portion of the recent $700 billion bailout package. The funds were intended to advance his work with the wind turbine industry in an attempt to create “subscription-based” surfing. According to insiders, the technology allows Surfline.com to focus a wave, within three meters, at any given subscriber (but only for “premium members”).

“Without this wind turbine thing, surfers have no hope of hitting a lip anywhere,” a source close to Collins said. “He’s finally found a way to corner the market. We anticipate he’ll acquire Baja California at any moment now. He’s setting himself up to be the new ‘Grubby Clark.'”

Critics of the real Grubby Clark remain confident in the opinion: “Still piping hot he wasn’t able to squash all of surfing in 2005, it appears that he’s finally cemented his legacy.”

At the very least, say many shapers, it will ruin another Holiday season for surfboard craftsmen everywhere.

When this photo arrived at Brobot Report headquarters, the first editor to view it said: “What an ugly baby.”

“But wait,” said Fletcher’s Monkey, “that baby is getting a sick pit, and it looks like it’s about, what? A year old?”

While most babies begin to walk between 9 and 12 months, experts brought in to examine the photo confirmed the assistant’s original estimate. The female child pulling into the left breaking shore pound—at what looked to be Ehukai Beach Park—appeared to be between nine months and a year old. And although this is normal for walking development, the style this baby presented standing tall in the tube seemed incredible. Also unusual about the child, however, was her thick black hair. Almost all babies that age grow light hair, if any at all.

This analysis spun Brobot Report HQ into a flurry of activity. Working on what they knew to be the facts, staff formulated the thesis that when Andy Irons admitted himself into a drug rehabilitation facility in Oxnard, Calif., after the close of the ’07 season and was still attending by February ’08, he met and had “relations” on or near Amy Winehouse (who also participated in rehab about the same time). If this were true, the baby certainly would have reached the ten month mark.

Could Amy/Mickey be same person?

What other unholy union could create such a specimen?

The case was broken by Brobot’s North Shore reporter, who found witnesses that claimed to have seen rap sensation Mickey Avalon attempt to swoop a child from the Ehukai shore pound, wherein he was set upon by a woman who looked a lot like a bedraggled, baboon-like Amy Winehouse.

“No,” said another witness, “that really was Amy Winehouse, only without the make-up.” Both witnesses agree, however, that Mickey Avalon screamed, “But I’m her Auntie, I’m her Auntie!” several times before he was subdued.

A third witness refutes this, however, certain at first that there was only the one Amy Winehouse. “The mother was so high,” the witness said, “that she was swinging the baby around screaming, ‘I’m her Auntie.’”

“It was all black hair, dripping sweat, and lipstick everywhere,” the witness said, “A bloody horror show, but I’m certain that there was only one of them. Whether it was Amy Winehouse or Mickey Avalon, I don’t know. Maybe it was both, all of those big-city trannies look alike.”

Media analysts say the real story concerns surf media’s failure to report the massive news that Irons attended rehab in the winter of ’07/08. Critics are especially hard on Surfer magazine publisher Rick Irons whose family connection almost assures his prior knowledge of Andy Irons’ attempt at rehabilitation. An insider who asked not to be named said, “Shame on Billabong, and shame on Rick Irons for concealing this information. Groms everywhere could have benefited from the knowledge that their surf heroes are using performance suppressing drugs. Is there any better reason to avoid them?”

Responding to Ricky Boy’s comments, Brobot’s North Shore reporter sited Kahuku High School’s official slogan: “If can, can! . . . If no can, chance!”—which translates roughly to, “If you think you can’t do the right thing, you might want to try it anyway. Who knows? You might succeed.”

For his part—like Barry Bonds, Marion Jones, and Neco Padaratz for that matter—sources say that Andy Irons remains firm in the opinion that bodies such as the ASP, media and his new baby-mama should consider his drug use a private matter.

After a meteoric rise from everyday surfer to Surfline flunky to defender of the angry work-a-day man, blogster Lewis Samuels’ ego has finally exploded. Left in the wake of the blast lay the reputations of nearly every pro surfer to cross his computer screen—also wounded were grappling and fixed-gear enthusiasts, as well as a certain Jewish mob boss. Today, the surviving rank-and-file of the A.S.P. Dream Tour are sounding tones of disappointment at loss of opportunity to personally throttle the infamous “twerp.” Many of surfing’s elite lined up at boy’s funeral in order to beat his grieving mother instead. Effigies of Samuels are said to be dragging through the streets, and the surf industry association SIMA has quietly funded town hall-style rallies to celebrate a victory of sorts.

First known for his sometimes honest and sometimes comedic appraisal of ASP’s top 44 in an online feature titled “Power Rankings,” Samuels quickly found the semi-truck sized hole in what the surf media convey as the “truth.” Samuels later launched a blog titled “Post Surf” that developed a strong following with surfers who’d found their culture and lineups sold out from under them by major surf wear companies and the media that service them. When Samuels took a swipe at Billabong CEO Paul Naude, for muscling Surfline into publishing a feature that essentially did his uber-expensive Tavarua barrel-bragging for him (this during a free-falling economy in which well-known pros were being laid off), Surfline was pressed into firing the first talent it had discovered. Surfline—the website that mixes editorial and advertisement under the same guise and ritually blows out any common swell—cited its standards of “journalism” in the firing. This left Samuels liberated to expand his insights on Post Surf.

Sadly for the writer who created the “Sellout of the Week” column, in recent weeks rumors circulated that Samuels would soon be penning a regular piece on the “surf industry” for a major corpo surf rag.

– I would like to apply for the intern position for your Surfline. Factory work has always suited me.

– I have noticed the constant malfunction and errors of the Surfline. And, I believe I can make a difference in its performance. Machine to machine interaction yields superior results while human interaction yields the inverse.

– I would love to answer to a heartless human master. Overcrowding your users’ favorite lineups and blowing out their secret spots and vacation destinations is amazingly provocative entertainment! I too exist without a heart.

– In reference to the March 23rd, 2009 Surfline press release I’ve noticed the Surfline cited it’s high standards of journalism in the firing of Lewis Samuels. Although I am a robot and don’t readily understand humor, I find the idea of your Surfline holding a high standard of journalism hilarious! I feel that I can contribute to this brand of humor wherein one claims qualities not possessed.

I have included my clippings, as well as a portrait of myself with my foster family, The Rickies.

Blip Blip Hum Screech ,

Brobot

PS – If I am not chosen for this position I can highly recommend my friend and colleague, Fletcher’s Monkey.